Midnight Quittich
by TheVeryCheesyAuthor
Summary: Because Quittich during the day isn't enough. House Unity at its finest.


"Watch it."

"Ouch, bloody hell"-a pathetic yelp echoed in the empty corridor-"that was my finger that you just stepped on."

"We're _walking vertically_ and someone stepped on your finger?"

"I thought weasels were smarter than this."

"One more word out of you, Malfoy, and I'll send your decapitated head back to your father."

"My father will hear about this!"

"Draco, you've used the same threat the past three years."

" _W-Who's there?"_

The crowd of feet stopped shuffling and they held their breath.

A portrait of a knight decked out in silver armor raised his baton, " _I-I repeat again, who's there?"_

Even though the knight was decked out in impressive gear, his shaky voice did nothing to stop the sniggering and breathing of people. The knight looked at the empty corridor before him and his face went paler by the seconds.

A foot suddenly appeared and the portrait screamed. A thud was heard and the portrait was now empty. The corridor was once again, seemingly deserted to the naked eye.

"Oh good god, look at what you've done. The knight was probably scared half to death!"

"He's already dead."

"Whatever."

"I told you knuckleheads over and over again. The spell works like an invisibility cloak! One step too wide and your feet will get exposed!"

"Alright, _Granger."_

"Dear Merlin, please"-everyone stopped to watch Marcus Flint disable his spell to pray to the Quittich Pitch-"don't let McGonagall find out."

"What do you have to fear, Flint? She's not even the head of your house!" Ron said, removing his own spell, "She'd probably tell you all to sod off and let Snape decide your punishment."

Pure fear shone in Marcus Flint's eyes and the other Slytherins looked at him in pity. Confusion was evident on everyone else's faces.

"Good god, something bad must've happened for Marcus to look like that," Cho Chang whispered.

* * *

"Ho, ho, ho, it's your commentator Lee Jordan here and welcome, to our fifth Midnight Quittich game!"-he winked at the newcomers and they blushed-"Tonight, we have some team versus some team! Let's give it up for our infamous players, but in their PJs! Whoo, things are about to get fluffy here!"

About twenty-four players collectively mounted their brooms. Luna Lovegood brought forth a casket and unlocked it with a quiet click. The ten people in the large, empty stadium couldn't help but cheer when the golden Snitch flew off into the dark sky.

"Ready, set..." The players gripped their brooms until their knuckles turned white, "Go!"

Immediately, five different players kicked off of the ground and circled high into the air. A black haired boy scanned the arena for a sign of fluttering wings. His green eyes stopped before a platinum blond haired boy.

Their grey and green eyes locked on for minutes. Finally, the other boy spoke.

"Potter, what are you doing?"

"I'm _trying_ to find the Snitch, what are _you doing?"_

"I'm _supposed_ to be the one _trying_ to find the snitch, Potty. Go before I hex you to the seventh hell!"

In duck-embroidered silk pajamas, Draco Malfoy looked like a snobby three year old who was trying to threaten the-boy-who-lived. Harry couldn't help but give a snort at the ridiculous scowl Malfoy's baby face had. In addition, because of his silk pajamas, Malfoy kept sliding off his broom. Malfoy was a train wreck tonight.

"Malfoy, you should wear better pajamas next time. You look like you're about to slip off."

The platnium blond haired boy's face heated up and a light pink blush dusted his cheeks.

"I'll have you know that these are the _finest quality_ of pajamas money can buy!"

"Nothing beats good ol' hand-me-downs," Harry patted his pants and gave him a wink.

Draco opened his mouth to retort back to Harry but then closed it again. Then he opened his mouth. Then he closed his mouth. Harry glanced at his face with a taunting smirk and turned his broom around. Even with his back facing Draco, Harry could feel him glaring holes in his back.

Below them, a war raged on between the players.

"It looks like Derrick has the quaffle somehow even though he's a beater and dang, I've got to say, I'm pretty impressed by his swerving skills. Maybe he should play as a chaser instead since he's so good... Just an idea! Flint, stop staring at me like that. Oh, and the Weasley twins are batting like crazy! Go Fred! Go George!"

There were currently five Bludgers loose on the field and the four participating Beaters were having a hard time with the extra one. Since Derrick started being a Chaser instead, the current Beaters had to somehow stop all five from slamming into people.

"And look at that! It looks like team Oliver Wood is in the lead with at least sixty points, judging by how he abandoned his Keeper position so fast to play Chaser. Wow, Chaser seems to be a popular position nowadays. They've recruited Captain Wood and Flint within minutes!"

The Quittich posts were only guarded by Ravenclaw Keeper Grant Page. He was sweating nervously as the Chasers started fighting over who got to throw the Quaffle. He had to block three balls at the same time and looked helplessly as a Hufflepuff scored.

"The more the merrier, eh, Feorge?"

"Well, Gred, we can't have anyone going to Madam Pomfrey because of _an unfortunate midnight accident._ "

"She'll probably have our heads for that," Oliver smirked cheekily at them, "But it's alright, we've got a person who could probably figure out how to heal our broken ribs in minutes."

"Maybe when she's not that busy fighting."

He pointed at the bushy haired witch fighting with Lee Jordan. She was whacking him vigorously with a book while a pale, shocked red-headed boy watched on.

"Ow, Ow! Hermione, stop that! I said I'm sorry! Ow! I can't help it that I'm a hormonal teenager! Ow!" Lee's cries were heard through the stadium but the players ignored it, "Anyways, back to business! Ow! I'm being totally unbiased! It's just that Angelina is looking fine with her night slip from this view! Ow!"

Half the players dropped their balls and peered at Angelina. She was wearing a black, vintage night slip that showed off a little leg. A blushed stained her dark cheeks and she glared angrily at Lee. Her muscular arms gripped the Quaffle and she threw it. Hard.

It landed straight on Lee's face and he howled.

"Ahem, anyways, since Lee is currently... Out of business, so, Luna shall be our new commentator," Hermione announced awkwardly.


End file.
